


Human in progress

by dancey94



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, M/M, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10055708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancey94/pseuds/dancey94
Summary: It's difficult to recover from hurting the ones you love.Will isolates himself from the world, hoping he'll find peace. Yet, the nightmare continues to haunt him and the frustration escalates. When Will finally makes an attempt at returning to the world of fame, he finds out that the old wounds are still open.The confrontation with the one he hurt seems inevitable.





	

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: any mentioning of violence has no connection with sexual behaviour

**Tuesday**

Will Graham was sitting on the windowsill, looking at the building opposite the one he lived in. The rain was hitting the panes. The greyness of the sky resembled the colour of Will’s eyes. It was his favourite kind of weather. The sound of the rain was like music to his ears so he opened the window slightly, allowing the chilly air inside his apartment. That was a writing block and Will was aware of that. His characters were standing in place just like his own life was. The plot was not advancing and frankly, Will was wondering if that was not the case from the start.

With a groan, Graham jumped off the windowsill and rummaged through his backpack for a cigarette. He would not be able to count on his two hands and feet the number of times he had tried to quit. But every time he avoided smoking, a block would hit him and the choice was either to reach for a cigarette or spend twelve hours in front of the tv. The news were depressing those days and the sitcoms not funny anymore, which left only one choice.

The smoke from the cigarette matched the general mood of that day. People stayed in their houses and spent the afternoon cuddling on the sofas or napping. Will’s editor, Jack Crawford, was probably busy getting laid in some cheap motel. He had just gotten married to the girl he loved at first sight and was travelling across the country, killing two birds with one stone. Will had to admit he was a little envious of Jack’s life full of simple pleasures and dreams generally coming true.

The rain was not getting any lighter but it offered a strange sense of comfort. If Will closed the window, the room would fall utterly silent and that was Graham’s greatest source of all the problems. Whenever he found himself in a quiet place, he would start thinking very hard on his mistakes and terrible life choices. If he closed the window, he would hear his own breathing – the inhale and exhale which allowed the smoke to assume various shapes. Will feared the steady ticking of the clock, indicating how much time had passed since he typed the last word, which was horrifying. So the window was left slightly open.

A bird sat on a branch but before Will managed to guess its kind, it disappeared.

Inspiration was something that Will had encountered a few times in his life and it was mostly the smallest gestures, weather phenomena or a stranger on the street. There was no place Will needed to be at the moment and he avoided going out since…an incident. The sound of rain was calming but not illuminating. Will listened to it, watching as the cigarette in his hand kept dissolving with each inhale.

Once again, Will left the windowsill to get his phone and a notebook. Perhaps he could recreate some old visions and ideas. He liked scribbling short pieces of information while on a bus, having a walk or during his dates, back when he would leave his apartment more than once a week.

Will took his seat next to the cold pane and started reading through his notes. There was something about dark figures on the roof, an old lady crossing the street, teenagers smoking at the back of the school. Was there truly nothing exciting happening anymore?

There had to be something he could start with – even the smallest piece that would allow him to overcome his block.

One of the old notes was just a number. It was a phone number, which never made it to the directory. It didn’t have to. Will knew the number by heart and was acutely aware to whom it belonged. That was why there was no name attached to it in the notes.

A terrible memory sprang to Will’s mind. The event was life changing and it was partly the reason why Graham stopped showing up at various parties and ceremonies. He’d never liked those - with crowds, fake praise or annoying journalists. Those were hours which he could spend on writing or having sex or reading. Literally anything was better than the events he was forced to take part in, just because he’d written four novels, three of which were bestsellers.

The number was there, waiting in the limbo of the things unused, ready for the right moment. However, Will believed that the right moment would never come. He’d done all he could and the guilt was still there. The only remaining solution was to disappear and try to make the memories fade, at least. The result of that thinking was the new apartment, new phone number and more time spent indoors. The last one Will did not mind actually.

As he was holding the phone, it started buzzing. The number displayed belonged to a friend of Crawford’s, one that Will had met a few months ago, called Frederick Chilton. With hesitation, Will swiped the screen and put the phone to his ear.

“This is Will Graham.”

“I know.” A faint laughter joined the smooth voice of the man. “Listen, I called Jack but he explained that he’s on vacations? And he told me to call you directly.”

Stupid Crawford. Will had told him a thousand times not to give his private number to anyone. The only exception were emergencies and the call from Chilton, as Will was about to find out, was not one of them.

“There is a charity event this Saturday. They’d like to have you there.”

It sounded so simple – come to the party, have a drink, tell a few jokes, pretend to be a cool person. There was a time Will didn’t even have to act; he was genuinely enjoying himself during those events. There were probably some pictures to prove it. Personally, Will got rid of everything from before the incident. It was sad how his life had changed.

“I think I’ll pass. Jack is not going to be there so-”

“Exactly! So he cannot represent you. You have to turn up in person.”

Will had no excuse other than the one with Crawford. Since he was a brilliant writer, he could have made up a story, a straight up lie, or simply hung up. He would have been forgiven and, frankly, that was a reaction people started expecting of Will. He became grumpy, antisocial and generally unpleasant virtually overnight.

“If I tell you that I don’t to be there…”

“It’s my job to convince you. And I’m very good at what I do.”

Will sighed loudly and released the smoke from his lungs. Perhaps it was high time he showed up in public so that people knew he was still alive. If he was lucky, he might even find an ounce of inspiration on his way to the event.

“I’m not going to be the reason why you’re fired.” The words were coming out of his mouth slowly and hesitantly.

“Great. Then, I’ll see you on Saturday at six p.m. I’ll text you more details tomorrow. It was nice talking to you, Will.”

The feeling was mutual, Will realised with a frown. He didn’t want to go to any party, correct, but he actually enjoyed hearing someone’s voice. For the last few months, Graham avoided human contact and the few people he spoke to were Crawford and a lady at the checkout, occasionally a pizza delivery guy. Someone telling him it was nice talking to him, even if it was only a learnt by heart formula, was invigorating.

Will finished the cigarette and opened his wardrobe to look for something suitable for a charity event. It had been a while since he wore a suit, let alone a tux. When he thought about it, he might have worn a tux twice in his entire life. Not that it was a shame. He liked suits better. To be fair, he loved being impeccably dressed and glowing.

As he looked into the mirror, he realised he had to make an appointment with a hairdresser and visit the dry-cleaner. He was a mess but one that could be fixed, at least on the outside.

 

**Saturday**

Whatever Will had been expecting, he didn’t expect _that_.

The venue was huge and it was almost maddening to find anyone familiar there. It made Will sick when he looked at all the beautiful and expensive clothes and decorations. There was nothing less than perfect and Graham was really embarrassed that he could blend in. All the money that had been spent for a charity event. The irony was twisting Will’s stomach so he decided to have a drink and look for Chilton – he might have been one of the few friendly faces there.

The first glass helped him relax. His muscles were no longer tense and heart no longer pounding. The fear vanished for a moment and he was enjoying himself. The band was playing an old song he knew and liked so he stood in place and listened to it. He froze when he realised that he liked that song for two reasons. The memories made Will flinch as he reached for another drink.

He could not believe how his tolerance changed. Somehow, after the second drink, he started hallucinating. His vision was not blurred and he was not stumbling. God, he was not even tipsy at that point! Still, wherever he turned, he saw the shape of the man from his past. The image could not be real, Will assumed. He was only projecting his dreams, or rather nightmares, onto reality and ended up confusing a stranger with-

“Will! I’m glad you made it.” A familiar voice interrupted Graham’s train of thought.

“Frederick.” Will nodded in a greeting and then smiled at the lady by Chilton’s side.

The pleasantries were exchanged and Frederick disappeared after a moment with his date, leaving Will alone again. When he turned, the stranger was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps that was for the better – it meant Will had been hallucinating after all.

During the first hour of the event, Will was introduced to three publishers, four editors, and a few other writers. He realised it had been a while since he last left home because there were a lot of unfamiliar faces there. Two journalists he recognised immediately and waved at them friendly. One reviewer patted Will on the back and for the shortest moment everything seemed to have returned back to the way it had been a few months prior. Graham almost felt guilty for wanting the things to be normal. Perhaps he could get back the life he had been leading before the incident.

As if on cue, his hopes were shattered when he heard the beginning of the next song. It started softly, just the piano. Then, the violin joined and Will’s heart broke into million pieces. A single tear was waiting in the corner of his eye for permission to burst. A scream, perched under his chin was waiting to let it all out. He was not ready yet to face his own demons and be reminded of the greatest mistake of his life.

The music continued and the people around seemed to have fun. It was more than just about donating and trying to provide help for those in need. The party was about making connections and celebrating freedom the participants could afford.

In hindsight, the confrontation was looming over Will the whole time. Everything seemed designed in advance and only waiting for the moment of vulnerability.

It came sooner than he had been expecting.

As Will was reaching for the third drink that evening, he sensed that the doom was approaching. The whiskey had a different taste and the music seemed to fade for a moment. Graham smelled something, a familiar scent he used to associate with happiness and a promise of an adventure. He was not wrong in wanting to escape the building immediately. The next thing he heard was a gentle familiar voice coming from right behind him.

“Hello, Will.”

Graham barely flinched. He knew what was coming. What was even more ironic was that he had anticipated something bad or strange to happen the first time he appeared publicly after quite a long break. It was a feeling in his gut telling him that anything could happen. And so, the worst thing happened.

Will didn’t dare to look up as he turned.

“Hello, Hannibal.”

The man before him smiled upon hearing the words and the tone Will used. It looked almost as if a rude student was afraid of being scolded but at the same time he resigned himself to it.

“Nice to see you finally got out of the house.”

“Pardon?”

Will’s blank expression must have been priceless. The first time they met after quite a while, thought it felt like forever to Will, and he completely forgot how to come about those things – interaction with another human being, that was. Graham realised he had never been an easy person to talk to but that level of social awkwardness was too high even for him.

“I’ve called.”

“I had to change the number.” Will explained hastily.

“I’ve been to your house many times.”

“I had to move.” Another quick response. Graham wanted to avoid that conversation so much it hurt him physically.

“I realise I may be wrong but if you genuinely didn’t want to see me anymore and if it was truly because you didn’t find me likeable anymore-”

“I hurt you. I hit you.” Will looked around, aware of the presence of other people. There was no reason to bring up anything private in public. God forbid they would start fighting and attract the attention of everyone in sight. “Look, it’s water under the bridge. I apologised. You said you forgave me. Can we…”

“Pretend like nothing happened? Certainly. Pretend like you didn’t lock yourself up in the house and denied any human contact? If you wish. Pretend like I didn’t care and never tried to reach you again? Possibly. But-”

“Okay, you’ve made your point. I’m a shitty person, I know that. And it’s not like I didn’t know we would end up like this. I wish we hadn’t.”

Will hung his head down and hoped to vanish into thin air. It was more painful than he’d thought it would be. And Hannibal looked stunning, which did not help. Graham imagined it was the result of having someone gentler, more loving and honest as a lover.

“I hoped we could talk.” Hannibal said in a low voice and with much warmth in his eyes. “Away from all these people. Just you and me. Would you want that? Or do you want to run away again and keep pretending that everything is fine?”

The last question was accompanied by a faint laugh. It was a deliberate gesture, since Will had always fallen for it in the past. That little chuckle was his great weakness and even after all that time, it still had him smile.

“Where should we go?” Graham asked.

“Do you remember that hill with the view of the whole city?”

“It’s a half an hour drive.”

“I don’t mind. Do you?”

 

They remained mostly silent for the duration of the drive. Hannibal turned on the radio and asked Will about his new projects. Graham outlined the plot and admitted he was having a hard time writing anything lately. The remark brought a smirk to Hannibal’s lips and Will was aware of the reason. Their affair.

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times, as someone had put it brilliantly. Will would have the greatest ideas in mind; the inspiration would strike him in the least possible moments and his head was full of words. Nevertheless, very few of those ideas had seen the light of day and appeared on the paper since Will had more pressuring things to do, like fucking Hannibal – sometimes more than five times a day.

It was the time he understood the concepts of jealousy and trust, even though he liked to pretend it was just sex between them and that they were not exclusive. Whenever he told Hannibal that he didn’t care, he cursed himself and his stupid stubbornness. It was evident that Hannibal cared and he was hurt every time Graham decided to act childishly, even if he tried to conceal it.

They were both aware that their affair would end badly, sooner or later; that it was going nowhere. Will only made their split more dramatic and unnecessarily more painful.

The spot on the hill was empty. Hannibal parked the car in a way allowing them to see the lights of the city. It was a calm night with a clear sky full of stars. The sight reminded Will of the night they had come there to celebrate one of his awards. He didn’t remember which one it was because it hadn’t mattered at the time. It was just him and Hannibal.

They remained silent for a moment, appreciating the view from the car. Then, Will reached for the handle and opened the door.

The open space made him regret the last few months he had spent in his apartment. More than that, he missed the times when he was with Hannibal – slightly reckless, frequently hungry, full of ideas and enthusiasm.

When he looked at Hannibal, it seemed that the man shared the sentiment. He was leaning against the hood of the car and watching Will from a few meters away.

“Perhaps you could use this scenery in your book.” Hannibal suggested, looking at the stars above.

Will nodded and took a couple of steps back to lean against the hood as well. The men were within reach of each other, which made Will slightly paranoid. The realisation sank in that the weeks he’d spent alone did not help him mentally, they only made his condition worse. And the fact that he was talking to Hannibal at the moment was just another layer of trouble.

“Should I simply get to the point?” Hannibal asked.

“I’d appreciate that.”

They both hoped Will would not freak out and that they could have a civilised conversation.

“You were rough with me when I asked you to and any other time you were as gentle as it can get.”

It was not the best to start but it was something - something Hannibal had to get off his chest.

“I crossed the line once but it was enough.” Will stated firmly, visibly beating himself again for something that had happened and could not have been undone. Over and over, the memory would return to haunt him and prove how terrible a person he was.

“I forgave you. And if you had allowed me to-”

“You deserve better. I hope you’re with someone who appreciates you and doesn’t violate your every right.”

Hannibal closed his eyes with a sigh. There was sorrow in the gesture and Will thought he would not bear another second there.

“Are _you_ with someone better?” Hannibal asked.

Better than you or better than myself, Will wondered. Either way, Graham shook his head because he remained single, if not completely isolated from the world. It was easy at the beginning, when he’d still replayed the scene in his mind and tried to do everything to forget and regain clarity of the mind. Only then, it became tough.

“You overreacted, Will. I’m not saying that nothing bad happened but you apologised and we would have figured it out. We would get over it but you decided to disappear.”

“I was so scared that I would do it again. You forgave me but I couldn’t forgive myself. I couldn’t watch you suffer because of me.”

Shaking, Will stumbled upon words. There was no easy way to talk about what had happened, especially with everything that happened _afterward_. The guilt was palpable on both sides.

“Is that why you withdrew from the public life? Because if you hadn’t, you would have seen me suffering. I was in pain when I couldn’t reach you. And then, you moved all of a sudden.”

“I’m so sorry.” Will whispered. Hannibal cared for him so much and he simply decided to avoid him and cut ties with him completely after one incident. Naturally, he’d taken the blame. He didn’t wish to see Hannibal hurt. He didn’t want to see anyone whom he cared for suffer.

The conversation was pointless, Will concluded mentally.

“See? I’m not worth it.”

“I didn’t say that.” Hannibal argued. He looked at Will and reached out to touch his arm but withdrew his hand immediately, not wanting to scare the man away. “That’s the opposite of what I’m saying. I care about you. You’re right, you hurt me. But we can talk about it like adults. I think you overestimated the damage, Will.”

“Did I?”

“I’m not made of glass.”

Then, Hannibal simply had to show what he meant so he grabbed Will’s hand and put it on his chest. His heartbeat was fast. Will’s hand rose and fell with Hannibal’ every breath.

“I hit you.” Will repeated. It was almost like a mantra. A sentence never to be forgotten. A sentence which held him back.

“It will never happen again.” Hannibal reassured.

“No, it won’t.”

For a moment, Hannibal was scared that Will would just push him away and leave again. That way he would keep his promise.

“I hurt you.” Will said, calmly but tears were already forming somewhere in the back of his eyes.

“You did. Now, can we please admit that you made a few mistakes which you regret, so that we can move on?”

 

**Sunday**

Will woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. He was in heaven. The pillows smelt strange but in a nice way. He could tell it was a sunny morning.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

The voice was familiar, yet somewhat different from what Will remembered. The owner of the voice also seemed slightly changed.

“What time is it?” Will asked.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Not really.”

Will reached for the cup of coffee Hannibal had prepared for him. It was amazing. The coffee was the second best thing about their relationship, the first being sex.

“I have to leave in a few hours but I was hoping we could meet later tonight?” Hannibal asked hesitantly. They only just restored to the way their relationship looked like and he didn’t want to ruin it with too much pressure.

“Sure. Maybe I’ll write a couple of paragraphs in the meantime.”

The remark made Hannibal smile warmly. Step by step, they could recover from the great misunderstanding and try again, as long as they were willing to.


End file.
